Whimsy: If Only
by 7 League Boots
Summary: April Foolishness, sequel to WHIMSY, March Madness. Jack finds out what Sam didn’t tell him about Whimsy. Fluff, uh, stuff and nonsense a la Jack. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Whimsy: If Only

Rating: T

Season: End of eight

Featuring:Samantha Carter, Jack O'Neill

Summary: April Foolishness, sequel to _Whimsy_, March Madness. Jack finds out what Sam didn't tell him about Whimsy. Fluff, uh, stuff and nonsense a la Jack (and Sam). AU.

Author's note: Well, can't say I didn't expect it. Someone (s) mentioned 'sequel' and the plot bunnies got to hoppin' and so forth and you know how persistent these pesky little buggers can be (if you're lucky). So, Jack on Whimsy. **Josephine Martin** and **Stusue:** thanks for the prod. Note slightly higher rating, for safety!

Reunion

It was a nearly a year before Sam returned to Whimsy, and it was not her intention.

One moment they were running for the open wormhole. The next they were flying through the air and crash landing on a dense carpet of grass.

"Wow, how did I land like this?" Sam sputtered. She was sitting up, quite comfortably, on an earthen platform of…shamrocks. "Omigod, I can't…we can't…Sir!" She got to her feet remembering that she wasn't alone. She spotted him some yards away tangled in a thick mass of shamrocks. And they appeared to be holding him.

Sam glanced behind her; the gate shut off just then. She could see the quartz chevron covers that imparted the protective shielding from the kawoosh. A residual caution made her look at the sky for angry storm clouds, but none were in evidence. Goodness, it was almost just as she remembered it. Almost…

"Carter!" An exasperated voice called. "Sam?"

Sam turned back to see him still struggling in the binding green mass. Why was it doing that?

"I'm ok, sir. Just stop struggling a moment and they'll let…er, loosen up," Sam replied. A new movement caught her eye and she whirled around. "Crap. Uh, one minute, sir," she called. Sam jogged toward the suspicious clump of trees in the clearing. She moved closer and _he_ stepped out of the trunk. Sam jumped back. "What are you doing?"

"Hi, Sam. Just caught a big one, huh?" he chuckled. The effect of his deep brown eyes was negated by her annoyance. He finally got serious. Sort of. "I knew _he'd_ make a scene, but well," he grumbled. He was now fully separated from the tree whose leaves were all shamrocks. They were waving enough to cause a breeze.

"Ok, start at the beginning? Why are we here? And more importantly, _how_ are we here? The last I remember…" Sam waited. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his BDU pants (and wasn't she glad he wasn't in Simpson boxers with the hearts now!). He was, however, barefoot. Then the memory flashed.

"Carter!"

Sam came out of the reverie. He nodded, satisfied. Then he glanced over at his, well, other whatever. Counterpart? Doppelganger? Sam felt a stirring of hysteria.

"Hey; no vapors now. Unless they're the kind we have here; good stuff, huh?" Jack said, seeing her face pale. His hand was under her elbow, supporting her. Concern belied his light tone.

She looked over at her soon to be ex-CO, relatively still in the shamrock prison. Ok, hold that laugh. Good thing he was turned away from her. Them. Assured he was ok, she leaned against the tree, took a breath and stole a glance at Jack.

His long feet were very clean for one who didn't wear shoes in a country environment. Sam tracked up the long legs covered by clean slacks, over the trim waist beneath his white athletic tee…

Sam's eyes snapped up as heat flooded her face. She'd better deal with this Jack now before Jack, the other Jack…Aagh.

"How did we get here? I didn't dial this address and the survey team went through the gate right before us," Sam asked. "Jack?"

"Oh, that," he said. He was blushing, Sam noted. "Well, you were in danger, Sam. I mean really almost _died_ danger. Couldn't allow that," he began. His face was stricken, apparently at the thought. "So, brought you here," he mumbled, searching her eyes as if seeking forgiveness.

"Uh, well that part's fine. Saving us is ok. But how?" Sam asked. "Just tell me, Jack. _He's_ not going to stay still long, you know," Sam prodded. The general's grumbling was growing louder.

"I felt it through you," Jack said. Sam frowned. He raised his hand and reached for her, then gently lifted her tags from her shirt, smiling in apology. He let her see the tags; a tiny shamrock uncoiled from it, and sprang onto his hand before it melted into him. "Said I'd be there for you, always." Jack stood waiting for her reaction, still unsure. Sam stared through watery eyes. She'd certainly never forgotten his words …

A familiar sound of earth movement drew her attention; the ground churned between her and the general. Ho, boy. Fully formed rock emerged with far less noise and turmoil than the first time. In short minutes an impressive rocky hill towered above them in the golden, quartz-flecked style. Her radio beeped.

Dread welled in her; she'd never told him about…this. Or _him_. Jack was all kindness and understanding as he gently stroked her cheek.

"It'll be ok," Jack said softly. "Whimsy will just 'get to know' him. I'll be nearby."

She shook herself. She knew what was in store for him; the…real him, thrashing like a fish in a net on the other side of the little mountain.

"Yeah, it would be best if he didn't see you right now," Sam said. Or ever. "I thought we'd had it back there. I don't know what to say, except thank you, Jack. "

"Hey, I made Sam speechless. That will never get old," he chuckled. Sam smiled automatically at his humor. "And ok, I'll play invisible man, for now. C'mon, Sam; you did the right thing keeping this to yourself, we both know that," Jack said earnestly. He squeezed her shoulder gently. "He'll understand about me. Well, eventually!" With a grin, he moved back and blended into the tree trunk.

"Bye," Sam said softly. The DHD was nowhere in sight. Sighing, Sam tried not to think of the general and _his_ ride on Cloud 9. A bubbling sound behind her made her smile. She turned and there was a nicely situated pool of her favorite mud!

"Ok," Sam said. She stripped down in military time. Soon she was reclining in her private spa of fragrant effervescent earth-goo (without the mind-scrambling scent this time), her head resting on a supporting cushion of friendly shamrocks. "Huh; he never told me _how_ he got us here," she murmured. She reached for her radio.

_To be continued._

Fear not, it's just the opener. The next chapter will follow very shortly. Note on the April Foolishness tag: due to RL's really buggy problems, got way behind the March Madness story. But I like the nutty reference 'cause this is another one of _those_ fics.

Please let me know what you think by your review. And thanks for reading.


	2. Flow

Whimsy: If Only

And now, h-e-e-e-re's Jack!

Flow

"That's it! I'm cutting my way outta here, Carter!" Oh, this day had better get better, General Jack scowled.

_Earlier_

"Sorry about that the intel, sir; it was good, just…incomplete," Sam said. His presence at the SGC had surprised her, given his shuttling back and forth from Washington these days, but not as much as when he was actually needed on this mission. A cache of Ancient artifacts, including weapons, was enough for the SGC to loan their main man to the current mission. "But when you have the 'magic touch'…" she said too innocently, eyeing him.

"As if you know," Jack replied with fondness. He tapped his finger on her nose. "One day you might have proof of that." They continued on to the survey team, already dialing out.

Sam had stared at him, then looked away, smiling. He liked flirting with her again; maybe now was a good time to see if she did, too. But he didn't find out. The sixth sense they'd both developed over the years suddenly flared. They stopped short. Sam searched left, the general searched right while each pulled their pistols. Then they saw it: Alkesh.

"Well, damn it! We have _got_ to get these briefings right!" He groaned. The ship started firing at the ground and was heading toward them fast.

Sam was already directing the last of the team through the wormhole. Their pistols couldn't do much. The ship only fired its weapons intermittently, as if to intimidate.

"Conserving ammo, you think?" He asked. Jack waited to see the last team member sprint into the horizon.

"Could be. It's not Jaffa or Goa'uld. More like pirates," Sam replied. She pointed out the markings on the side.

"So, a jolly roger?"

"As good as; the Lucian Alliance symbol," Sam said. They noticed the ship was swooping lower and the new trajectory of its gun turrets was aimed..."We should leave _now_!" Sam yelled. Jack spotted the motion and backpedaled. Sam reached and grabbed him to keep him upright until he could spin around. The sprint for their lives began.

He could feel the concussive shocks under them as the ship let loose its barrage. Ahead, the event horizon flickered. What the heck were they firing? Goa'uld ships didn't do that, did they?.

"Carter, that doesn't look good!"

"No, sir!"

A shot blasted the ground near them. Soil and rock exploded, throwing them into the air.

And then they landed. Here.

_Present_

The general finally shook himself free and then glared at the tumbled mass of shamrocks before he faced the new obstacle. The mound of light stone cut him off from her and the gate. Where the hell had it come from, anyway? Then he heard her on the radio.

"Uh, here, sir. You ok? " She asked. He frowned as he heard static filtering her voice.

"Now I am. And you? Were you caught in that briar patch, too?" he asked, his eyes doing a quick check around. No climbing this joker. Sam hesitated, which put him on alert. "What? Are you hurt? "

"No, no, I'm fine. It's just that, uh, I know this planet," Sam replied. Jack was troubled by her wavering.

"You do? Where's the survey team? Did they dial the wrong number? You know, a bunch of egg heads ought to know better," the general said. He unbuttoned his jacket as he waited again. "Ok, we're on planet…?"

"P9-884X, sir," Sam said with a sigh. Silence. "Whimsy."

"The spa planet? Maybe that's why it's getting warm," General Jack said. His brow crinkled. "And where's everybody again?"

"They didn't arrive here so I'm pretty sure they're back at the base," Sam answered. "Uh, Sir-"

"What's going on?" General Jack asked with mounting edginess. Something was up with her. "Talk to me, Sam."

"It was the planet, sir. It saved us from being killed by bringing us here," she said.

He didn't expect to have to ask but she was quiet again. He took off his pack and jacket.

"Good save. But just how was that possible? And what's with the mountain? Sheesh, it's getting hot," Jack said. He removed his cap and tucked it into his back pocket. The radio clicked and was silent. Oh, come on, he thought.

"Carter? Hey, you there?" He called. Nothing. Well, swell. Cut off by the baby Alps and out of contact with his teammate. Steam began to rise around him.

He stepped back to assess the formation again. Too smooth to scale without cleats and other climbing gear; and damn if it didn't run practically into the horizon in both directions. Then he paused.

This was what happened to SG-1 when Carter got separated from Daniel and Teal'c, except it was trees. And the guys looked – and smelled – like miners after a two day shift. Carter, on the other hand, hadn't. He'd kept wondering about that. Odd that his recall of the incident kept fading in and out.

And what was with the grass? He looked down at the plush greenness; was it moving? Nah; Carter would have mentioned moving grass in her report. Did she? He had a hazy recollection of teasing blue eyes and chocolate on a pinky…

"Holy horse beetles! What – " Jack shook himself briskly. Where did those thoughts come from? Well, he knew where, but why now when he needed to think of getting out of here and making sure her pinky was safe and…"Get a grip!" He felt heated from the inside out. He took a deep breath. "Whew, that smells nice, and familiar…and real good, too."

Whoa. What smelled nice? The steam rising from the ground seemed to wrap around him and into him. He felt like flowing.

"Ok, I could like this. Wait, I should say no, right?" Jack asked no one.

He found himself flat on his back, arms and legs spread out from his body. He couldn't move but under him there was a kind of vibration. Over him was a dome of fancy light effects, reminding him of lazy fireworks melting into each other. Mesmerizing. If not for the fire bursts inside his head it would be soothing, he thought. And then they did stop, gradually.

Jack lay face up; the only smell was of the dirt, the clear sky above and grass tickling his ears. Cautiously he raised his head. Nobody there. He laid back.

"Oy," he groaned. "Thanks for taking it down a notch." He hoped at least there wouldn't be any withdrawal to go through, or hangover. He opened an eye. He'd never dropped acid but this sure could have been a trip. Still, whatever he just snorted was seriously potent.

The gently vibrating motion beneath him felt good; accompanied by a gentler version of that hot scent, it was pleasantly soporific.

"Oh, yeah. Now here's a vibrating bed you oughta try, Teal'c," Jack drawled, relaxing into the gentle waves of movement under him. They coursed from head down to toe and back with just enough pressure to massage along the way. An urgent, pesky thought pricked his feel-good moment. "Carter. Sam?"

"She is well. She will wait for you."

Jack's heavy lids stubbornly propped themselves half open; who was that? Then he saw her. Or did he? He hadn't moved, but there she was actually sitting on a bank of flowing shamrocks. Yeah, shamrocks. Flowing. She was absorbed in something on her notebook screen. And completely safe. Just like he liked seeing her, all calm and excited at the same time, glowing in her concentration…Hey, pull the brakes, General.

"Good stuff here. Wanna tell me why you're doing this?" Jack asked with monumental effort. He was feeling zinged to the eardrums and didn't mind one bit. But there was his teammate out there and all, sweetly patient while he couldn't say no to whatever this was. "Hello, planet? Yoo-hoo! Kree?"

"You are welcome here. You are known here. Forgive."

"Uh, thanks, I think. And forgive what? This rocks. Really." Jack answered, momentarily focused on the massaging, vibrating earth-bed. He didn't hear himself speak but the entity answered.

"The mist. You are different."

"Different. You mean male? Not like Sam? Hey, did Sam get zonked out, too?" Jack asked. Thinking of Sam on a vibrating bed of shamrocks…Heady thought. He took a breath and felt his senses fill with renewed flowy-ness. Yep, go with the flow.

"Different element. You are a match. Samantha is a match."

"Really. A match, you say? Go figure," he said lazily to the sky. He could feel the sappy grin on his face. He felt sap-happy all over. "Aw, man; focus," Jack ordered. "Ok, how 'bout this: what do you want?"

"Purpose."

Jack frowned, or thought he did.

"Not getting that; want to try that again?"

"Remain, and I will have purpose. Completion."

"Oh." Just what his fuzzy head needed: encryption. A job for Sam, or Spacemonkey. The expert massage and the spiked air kept easing him back to their friendly clutches. What a vacation spot this could be, he mused. Just needed a fishing pole…

He heard a splash. Did grass splash? Jack eased his head up.

That's when he saw the lake. He grinned from east to west.

"Sweet!"

The vista before him was glorious. Whether or not it was real was so irrelevant. Jack climbed to his feet, wavered until he gained his balance, and started toward the glistening body of water. The shamrocks were practically dancing, he thought, and it made him smile even more.

"Fellas, ya see that? I like!" He said cheerfully. The humidity hung in the air and wisps of steam collected occasionally on the water's surface. Then he saw it. The fish tail was huge! "Whoa!" Jack shouted. He watched its silvery, blue-green gills flash in the light before the tail did a flashy flip and slid beneath the water.

Surrounded by lush green shamrock-grass and leafy shade trees (whose leaves still resembled clover but he didn't quibble), the blue lake was nicer and bigger than his pond at home. Good thing, otherwise a fish that size would have claustrophobia. It was his ideal fishing hole – private, natural and available. Grinning, he searched the surface of the water until he saw it again. The blurred shadow gliding below was provocative and beguiling; that struck him as odd for a moment. Then again what wasn't odd here? Another object to the side caught his attention and he nearly whooped.

A fishing pole. Jack was picking it up almost as the thought formed. He measured it, impressed with the weight, length and the fly. There was a deck chair of wood with clover padding that was angled just right for him. He studied the water again, now quiet. His radio was quiet. He shrugged and decided to test his new rod.

"Yeah, way to go, Whimsy-pal" Jack said. He sat, amazed as the seat conformed to the most comfortable configuration for him. Then he expertly flicked the long pole and sent the fly deep into the center of the lake. It landed light as, well, a fly. "Wow, that's some reach!" He laughed. No line was that long but it didn't seem to matter here. He could probably throw a line through the gate and yank Siler's glasses back! He guffawed heartily at the thought.

The moist happy-heat, the comfortable chair, the easy silence; Jack sighed at his good fortune. The line was slack, awaiting a nibble; he couldn't imagine a better interlude. Well, yeah, he could with…Nah; if only. He'd just hang out here a minute, just for a minute.

"Oh, good one, Sam" Jack mumbled. His cap pulled over his eyes, he smiled at the playful tug on his fishing line. It happened again, much too lightly for even a minnow. "Don't make me come after you…oops," he said, and his eyes popped open. Lifting his cap, he glanced around. The pole was in one hand, balanced between his knees. "Now that was weird." He settled back down, far from settled.

His head slightly clearer, he examined his radio and found it remained unresponsive. He was sure Sam would be finagling with the short waves, microwaves or whatever. So he again marveled at the fine grain of the fishing pole and its workmanship; hand crafted, he thought. Like the one the team sent him for a coming-back-for-a-visit gift; one Sam picked out. Jack shook his head.

"Listen up, Whimsy. Or P-whoever. This is all well and nice, and I appreciate it. But I have my own pond to fish in, you know. What say we call it a day?" Jack asked. No response; he sighed. The mist and heat returned and he inhaled its hint of scent. He knew he should be doing something other than lolling about, but, well. Jack slouched against the seat, allowing the new mellow. "Alright, then."

Sam was right; this would be the ultimate getaway spot. He stared out at his line, the fly bobbing on the surface. Too bad she wasn't here to see how it worked, he mused, feeling a jolt of aloneness he'd rarely felt at his cabin. Aw, sheesh; this stuff makes you maudlin, too?

The line pulled taut. There was a loud splash. His down-pin thoughts vanished as he gripped the pole and got to his feet. A pond with no fish was ok, but a lake with a rearing prize-sizer was _cool_!

"Whoo-hoo! I got you now!" Jack crowed. He braced himself on the bank as the catch fought to free itself. Its bright tail slapped spray feet into the air. Alright, it was a fighter! "Uh-uh-uh, you're up against a master fisherman! The Hemingway of the SGC!"

Glorious minutes later and up to his knees in the water, Jack could feel the fish weakening. His arms strained less and the line gradually slackened, signaling his coming victory. He drew back, his catch following. It hadn't shown its head yet but he felt sure it was a trout, or bass; something with power and a whole lot of fight. Soon he was standing in the shallows easily reeling the line in.

"Ha, who's your daddy?" That's when the line gave one last pull and dragged him into the water. Jack held on, scrambled to his knees and with all of his strength, held firm. And then it shot out of the water, straight up, giving him a good look at his catch.

"Yeah, whose the man oh man oh what?" Jack exclaimed. He stared as the catch gracefully turned in mid air, an arc of water followed the tail as it swung up and its head went down. It wasn't until he heard the distinctive giggle that he realized what he was seeing.

The splash down drenched him again but he didn't regard it. The line was caught not in its mouth but in its top, its sweet little _wet_ tank top.

Ok; no more inhaling. He held onto the pole more for support now, really. Blinking very hard and very fast didn't change what he hoped he only thought he was seeing.

A tousle-haired blonde, sultry blue-eyed apparition winked at him. She floated on the water now, flicking the lithe scaled length where her long legs should be. Jack swallowed and couldn't utter a squeak.

"Great catch, Jack. You gonna pull me in or throw me back?" She grinned a familiar grin.

Apparently he'd been reeling in a mermaid - Sam.

To be continued.

I couldn't resist! Blame my wayward muse for that one. More to follow soon. Please review, and thanks for reading.


	3. Connection

Whimsy: If Only

Jack's still trippin' on Whimsy. Appreciate your reviews, please enjoy! This isn't beta'd so please forgive.

Disclaimer: Oops, forgot to mention these aren't my peeps. I just love 'em and leave 'em like I found them 'em, more or less. Just continuing the fun of SG-1. - **_7LB_**

Connection

Jack didn't know how long he stood, mouth agape and staring at this fanciful creature. No, a fanciful Sam. Oh, man, he was more messed up than he thought. _Was _this Sam?

"Uh, Carter?" He asked tentatively. She smiled; her hair, amazingly dry, softly curled into her shoulder. She flipped over and he could see where the scales melded with her backside before becoming that tail. He felt his temperature rise. Easy, he gulped.

"Carter's on the other side of the Great Divide, Jack."

"Oh. Right. So you're…Sam?"

"Of course," Sam said, saucily flicking that delectable tail and causing a fine spray over her. "Who else would I be?"

"How about, Impossible?" Jack mumbled. Of course she was. He grew irritated even as he was unable to look away from it. Her. This planet was giving him serious delusions and he didn't like it. That is, he did like this one; oh, and the lake. Jack shook his ire back in place. "What's going on? Sam?" he finally asked. Man, she was hot. Not. Stop. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"The back stroke," she said. Her giggle made the water ripple, even the shamrocks rippled. "But your question should be: what am I doing here like _this_?" She tugged the hook out of her shirt, studied it curiously before flicking it away. Then she turned back to him.

Emerald green eyes blinked and became Sam's jewel blue orbs full of mischief. Her expression coaxed a smile out of him, but he saw concern there, too; he'd always known when she was worried about him. Suddenly she dived underwater. And stayed there.

"Sam! You're only part fish, you know!" Jack called, wading forward. He realized he didn't have his boots on! "Hey…" A smothered laugh behind him made him spin about. There she was, her arms draped on the leafy bank and his boots swinging from one hand. Dry. Jack wanted to glare but his lips turned up. "How'd you do that?"

"You were napping. Figured you'd be more comfortable," Sam replied. Her pretty eyebrow arched playfully. "You need to relax more, Jack. All work, you know?"

"This from the queen of overnight lab stints?" Jack retorted, hands on hips. She chuckled. His feet squished in the velvety silt, a pleasing sensation. Unable to exercise his trademark willpower, he let his eyes study Sam Impossible as she lounged before him.

Exquisite. He didn't need any drugged steam to think that. She reclined in elegant nonchalance, her lean arms spread wide along the bank. The grey tank top flirted with exposure with each breath she took, and wow, he could stare forever in hope of, that… The scaled part seemed to grow from her skin, leaving her navel fully in view. But it was the delicate tail she casually flipped in and out of the water that kept his rapt attention. Jack reasoned that she was as tall as she would be with her legs. His hand twitched to feel the scales.

And her eyes noted the little action and slowly trailed up to his. Sheesh, just flay me, why don't cha, he groaned, his face hot. Only half was from his embarrassment; the rest was from her deliberate eye-crawl over him.

Insane. That damned steam ate a hole in his brain and filled it with visions of a Mermaid Sam. He made himself turn his back on her. Sam Carter: tempting and unattainable. Right. No, that was so wrong.

Aw crap; he needed intel, right? So he turned around and lost his thoughts. And speech. Again.

Another deck chair had materialized close to his. Sam lay back, dark sunglasses over her eyes and an expression of bliss on her lovely face. Her hair was blonder as if sun-bleached and spread out behind her head. A lightly tanned arm trailed into the clover, her long fingers idly played with them. Or they played with hers. Her glittering lower half shifted languidly.

For cryin' out...was this planet trawling his mind for Sam-dreams? Because this vision was so achingly perfect, he shut his eyes. Why didn't Carter tell him about how very real it could _feel_?

"You know why, Jack," she said. Her gentle voice pulled him instantly to attention. He opened his eyes to see her brilliant blues gazing at him, sunglasses gone. Kindness, a teasing - testing respect; all the things he'd seen in her were doubled now, for him. She lifted an arm and beckoned him to his chair. Silently he sat. "Could you have believed it?"

Jack stared, willing his thoughts back to that debriefing.

"No. Guess not; would have had to report it," Jack murmured. Man he was glad he didn't have to sleep on that kind of decision. Communing with a planet was bad enough, but being manipulated to see whatever it wanted her to see? Then he noticed something. She'd turned on her side to face him, her legs curled up. Legs! "What…what happened to uh, your tail?" He liked her tail! In any form. Oops…Of course she caught that drift; he rolled his eyes.

Sam grinned and rolled onto her stomach. She wiggled her backside, now clad in sand colored linen beach combers. She bent her knees and kicked her legs in the air, looking back at herself.

"It's still there, I think. Isn't it?" She asked. At his wide eye awe, she laughed with such abandon he was compelled to smile. "Ok, you want it fast or regular?"

Jack stared. It? Fast? Regular? His mind spinned into a torrid zone.

"The explanation," Sam said. Her expression clearly told him she knew exactly where his thoughts would go, and was quite amused. He wasn't. Amused, that is. "Ok, regular. The planet's composition pretty much matches earth," she began, using a finger to draw in the moist sand (where shamrocks sprouted a second ago; focus on her, on her, he ordered). "So, on the basic level, humans are mostly compatible with it. But it needs more; especially your advanced gene, and I have something less tangible but anyway, a synaptic rhythm that can adapt to its bio-thermal rhythm," Sam said. Her finger finished drawing two people, half of each was part of a globe or planet.

"So, your brain, my brawn; we're a team," Jack summarized. Her legs, bared below the knees, distracted him. He swung back to her and noted her attention still on her artwork. Or not. It was more fantastic than anything to suspect her – Sam – of toying with him, calling his attention to her rounded…Whoa! Jack jerked his eyes to her. Blue innocence. Uh-huh.

"And that got us here how?"

"Elemental memory," Sam replied. She laid her head on crossed her arms and regarded him. Her long legs scissored against the clover cover. "It means that Whimsy has the ability to locate and retrieve its own matter."

"Yeah? And since we're sort of cousins, if you will, it found us?" he asked. Sam's smile made him wonder what she was thinking. "Ok, so Whimsy can find itself, because it, what, takes vacations, leaves its keys?" Now he knew what her expression was: pleased. Huh, and didn't he always like when she looked at him that way.

"Actually, the 'cousins' thing is a _bit_ of a stretch. But if we took any part of Whimsy with us, it could find us. And being in close proximity to an open wormhole made it a piece of cake," Sam replied. Her hand played over his bare toes. He flexed them; she giggled. "Of course, that's only if we're compatible, otherwise it withdraws itself," she went on. She passed her hand over the little sand drawing and Jack felt a snap in his head.

He saw them: Humans rushing aboard really cool spaceships while the world around them was ripping apart. He saw a Stargate in the background, its event horizon a strange mottling of dark and light colors. Most troubling were the patches of earth where he suspected they shouldn't be. His mind saw them as scabs and he felt how they would irritate. Ow, he thought.

"Right, the allergy," he said aloud. His foot flexed against her hand; he smiled at another muffled giggle. "So I'm guessing Sam, who's a match, carried a bit of Whimsy and it used this recall to save us," Jack reasoned. There it was again, her approval. "So, why'd _I_ come?"

"Jack. Why do _you_ think you're here?" Sam chided in mock seriousness.

"Because I was with her?" Jack asked. Man, she was long, something he'd noticed from the moment she saluted him across the conference room table. Jack's musing paused; Sam casually turned onto her back and stretched out one endless leg, the other bent at the knee. The lighter-than-air linen molded to her, and the tank top kept fluttering with her every breath. "Uh…" Jack tried uttering a word against the rush of blood from his brain to other places. She laid one hand over her taut abdomen and the other folded behind her head, raising the tank top.

Jack blinked and sat straighter. Not that he needed any help drooling over Sam, but really, this was kicking things up and over a notch. This was one of the outfits she had sent to the good-time castle by the beach (except that tank top covered more of her, thankfully). Did she know he liked her in it, a lot? She turned her head and caught his eyes with her own clear blues. When she reached for his hand, he took it. Real.

"I'm the Sam you know, Jack. She'd never leave you behind," Sam whispered. Her hand tightened gently and he returned the pressure.

"Yes, you are. And no, she wouldn't," Jack answered softly. "But I gotta say, I'm still confused by…this," he waved his free hand at their surroundings. "It's nice, great. But well, I guess I don't understand. Not yet." He looked back and gagged. The scales - the tail were back. Her bright smile turned a little wry. "Alright, my head's gonna blow here!"

He couldn't look away from the supple appendage. Up close he could see the individual scales, each a different hue of blue, green, silver. The layers blended to the eye into a mesmerizing pattern that shifted with each slight movement she made.

"I'm here to help, Jack. However that may be," Sam said calmly, still gripping his hand. He thought fleetingly that she made a slender mermaid; that is before he checked himself and saw that she seemed to glean his mindset again. "You used to value my help."

"Yeah, well, of course I want your help, Cart- Sam." Jack sighed. He realized he was clear-headed; no blaming psychedelic steam now. He tried to think this through, working around the obstacle of Impossible Sam, Mermaid. "Um, just what do I need your help for, again?"

"The purpose, of course. Now you're here, Whimsy can proceed with its destiny," Sam replied. He watched her swing her tail-fin back and forth, drawing his eyes.

"Uh-huh, right. Destiny. Just what is that? And how long will this take?" Jack asked. Her hand reached out and trailed over his arm. Sam almost never reached out and touched him. Sure he might pat her on the shoulder or something but otherwise, nil. Well, there was their infrequent arm wrestling duel…Still, in this short period Sam had touched him more than she ever did. Uh-oh, ok; this wasn't _his_ Sam; there _wasn't_ a his Sam. Sam Impossible cocked her head to the side, inquiring yet knowing at the same time. "Give me a break here, Sam," he finally sighed.

"Ok, then, General. Making it simple, again," she finally answered. She sat up, bending her lower body as if she had knees. Her blue eyes sparked with challenge and of course that singular kindness and empathy he'd long noted. It was that mix of challenge, her restrained mischief that fascinated him; always had. "Whimsy didn't save you just because you were with her, Jack. Because she was part of you, you're part of her and it knew that as soon as she got here."

Suddenly he realized he'd reclined, and he wasn't reclining alone.

Jack lost the ability to resist. Or gave in; whatever. Just for one moment only, he indulged his wish to lay next to her. Their deck chairs had merged, and with her long body pressed along his, her warmth made his blood hum ("_Scuze me while I kiss the sky_" came to mind.). His arm itched to gather her close but he doggedly refused to sully her with goings on that were taboo with the real her. Even though this Sam seemed far from disinclined…

Jack shut his eyes, shut everything out except the woman so peaceful beside him. Somehow, on its own, his head turned to her and he inhaled the scent of her hair that had long been imprinted on his deepest hideaway memory.

Sam moved closer and did the worst, the best thing: curled into him and wrapped her arm across his waist. Her head came down on his shoulder and she sighed as he finally allowed his arm to hold her there. Jack relaxed with his stolen pleasure, batting away the clamor of guilt; just holding her, that's all.

But Sam squirmed not long after and sighed with exasperation. Then she placed her hand on his chest and drove him a little loony when she combed through his chest hair.

"I guess I _could_ get to like you like this," she whispered.

"Lying here like a dumb log?" Jack replied gruffly. He practically made himself catatonic to keep his hands still. She chuckled into his shoulder. He shuddered.

"I mean you, all broody and noble," Sam replied. Her long fingers drummed on his skin. "Such control, so easy," her voice gently mocked him. She leaned up and brushed her nose in the long groove in his cheek, laughing softly when he stiffened.

"Never easy, Sam…C'mon, don't," he said miserably. He couldn't play with _her_ this way; he was human and male and the anti-saint if there ever was one.

"Oh, please! Don't what? Molest you?"

"Hey, I didn't say that…" Jack protested at her frustrated tone. _She_ was frustrated, ha! "You're her, Sam. Hey, I'm still your CO even in my freakin' dreams!" He growled, suddenly realizing the origin of their strange estrangement. He looked into her eyes, still patient even in her displeasure with him. "Yeah, I wanna play but I won't –"

"Treat me like a real person? A friend? You'd rather think of me as so untouchable that I'm this figure of juvenile fantasy?" Sam demanded.

He got quiet. Off-duty after a few beers (and on a long weekend) he _might_ log some what-if / if-only dreams but even those were tightly controlled. Being her CO was uncomplicated because they both saw duty first, second and friendship third. Nada in between. His eyes swept over her wistfully; she looked back wistfully. Sam pouted; Jack thought he pouted back.

Then she jerked and up swung the glistening mermaid tail, and down it came to thwack him on the head. Lucky for him the tail fins were more delicate than on a bass or marlin!

"Hey, watch it!" Jack protested. When he raised his arms to defend himself, Sam rolled at him. "Whoa!" He sat up and caught her before she rolled onto the grass. The deck chair swung upright and made it possible for her to land in his lap, fish tail swinging on the side. Talk about a conspiracy.

"I just think you're…special, unique, Sam."

Now he'd done it. Holding Sam Impossible on his lap. Her arms went around his shoulders, her annoyance faded in a long sigh. Hell and heaven. He had it all. Sam looked him in the eyes, he could only look back.

"I'm all that you know I am, Jack," Sam said, one hand sliding around his neck. "But not this…illogicality! Look at me," she ordered in soft urgency. Slowly, reluctantly he did. Her smile was kindhearted, perceptive; so Sam. "You're a veteran, a survivor - you assess your surroundings, your assets, your people. Remember what you saw in me, Jack? Talk to me."

Jack stared at her lips, the lips that befuddled him with techno-babble and sent his thoughts into a sensual realm at the same time. She raised one elegant eyebrow to encourage, no; to dare him.

"Ok: I saw a soldier – a damned good one. My second in command who pulled my gonads out of the fire more than I can count. A scientist who outthinks any think tank on the planet. "A good friend, hell, the best. And, uh, and…" Jack said and then faded out. _My friend_. Through their sometimes intense professional or personal disagreements, always friends.

She _cared _so very deeply and sincerely about everything and everyone around her. Right now, Jack could see that care and concern not just directed at him but roping around him, into him.

Unconsciously he gathered her closer; Sam laid her head on him. She'd become so much more to him. Friend barely described the depth of their mutual respect and faith, sense of duty…With his upcoming promotion and relocation to DC, he'd begun to hope of being more to her. But then again, he was paralyzed by what the changes meant – or didn't mean – to Sam. He rested his chin on top of her head.

Man, could he be more out of it?

"Broody, broody," Sam hummed into his shoulder. Her nimble tail swung back and forth, brushing the clover. "Are you there, yet, Jack?" She asked a moment later. Her bottom nestled squarely where he tried to ignore, surprising him. "Not sorry," she laughed. Then her eyes looked into his, and he saw the light, flirty side that made him giddy for days when he was so lucky she chose to reveal it.

"Ok. This is how – _you're_ how I see Sam. Her. You. Goo-gah!" Jack moaned. Doubles and alternate realities hurt his brain. Focus, here. This Sam came out of his mind, from the top secret compartment. Maybe not the fish-tail part, though. "The one I'm not supposed to notice. Much."

"Uh-huh; But you noticed," Sam cooed. She squirmed and giggled when his arms tightened around her and he growled in warning.

"Oh, yeah. A little," Jack hedged. Her hair tickled his chin.

"Mmm," she murmured into him.

"C'mon, now, since when do you go Teal'c on me? What's this…uh, the -" Jack's demand petered out. Her hand returned to his chest and she breathed into the nape of his neck. Steam started rising from the lake. He didn't notice much then, except her in his lap.

"Relax, Jack. It's not so hard, really," she said, and wiggled till he groaned. "Oh, it _is _hard, hmm." She giggled with a blatant naughty look. "Aw, just take a deep breath a moment, that's it," Sam cooed. He blinked, and the scent was in his nose and sending him afloat before he realized it. "Nice, now?"

"Oh, yeah," Jack sighed hyper-happily as her lips touched his. He smiled against hers. "Nice now."

_To be continued_.

Hope you liked, and take a moment to review. And thanks for reading. BTW, "the good time castle on the beach" refers to episode, _The Light._

Note to **dp**: Thanks for reviewing! Happy summer – _**7LB**_


	4. Fusion

Whimsy: If Only - Conclusion

Hang on for this one; Jack finally gets it! Reviews are always appreciated!

Fusion

They sank until clover and soil rose over them to become crystal blue water. Sam turned in that slow-motion underwater way to face him. When the cool water made him gasp, Sam quickly covered his mouth with hers to prevent the natural result. Jack nodded to her that he was OK and she released his lips. After a sneak kiss, that is.

Which was fine with him. Mermaid Sam was just fine. She ate bubbles from his lips and burst them back into his mouth. Jack grinned under water and grinned at the thought of doing that.

"You swim like a fish, too!" Sam said as she cut through the water with him beside her. Her body swayed and undulated at a brisk pace but he kept up with her easily.

"Second nature!" he said or maybe thought; or they were talking underwater!

And this being Whimsy, it was more than just a swim.

"Trust me?"

"Always!"

They raced into depths deeper than any lake, their speed and antics scurrying schools of silver fish as big as his hand. They dived into canyons with no light and played hide and seek. Jack couldn't stop laughing as his mermaid companion kept pace and often out-swam him, her exotic tail a natural propeller.

Ah, but she never left him so far that they couldn't reach out to touch. They tangled around each other; a clandestine touch; a bold one; a seductive one. Jack enjoyed it all, especially the sneaked in kisses as they rolled over one another in tit-for-tat tag. She was helping him breath. Right.

He dived behind her as she zipped down into a deep crevasse. Seconds later she jetted up, caught him under the arms and propelled them both up to the surface and way into the air. Jack wrapped his arms around her and held on as they ascended. She grinned down at him, one hand smoothing his wet hair. He pressed his head close and blew raspberries in her bare tummy, causing a giggle that made him smile from inside out.

"Hope you're ready for this, fly-boy!" Sam said with a twinkle in her eyes. She pushed free and grabbed his hand as they started to fall. Sam's legs were back; she kicked the air and winked at him.

"Right beside you!" Jack called back. Their hands linked, they plummeted. But instead of the lake, Jack saw a sensational waterfall below. Sam's eyebrow raised in dare; he matched her look. They hit the foaming water and slid over the edge of a giant water slide with crazy twists and scary climbs and drops. "Whoo-hoo!" Jack turned to see her face aglow, fully engaged in the thrill with him.

Sam unleashed. Whimsy should be shot for waving his secrets out like this. Except he was loath to let this dream-Sam go yet. His spirit dimmed.

Sam that wasn't Sam. Jack saw her eyes go soft with understanding. His Sam was adventurous, maybe even a bit overly daring-do at times; he knew this. Always wished he'd met her when he was younger. In a blink her gaze was back to mischievous.

Springy grass met their feet as he and Sam slid out; the water slide disappeared into the ground. She turned to him.

"You're in the zone, Jack. Only _very_ good friends get this close," Sam murmured. "Do you want to be?" She eased away, half in shadow. Jack noticed the sudden change in their surroundings. In the semi-gloom, her eyes glinted.

"Sam has to know I wanna be close, right?" Jack asked. Her eyebrow arched. "For cryin' out loud…" OK, then; he was close; Sam – this Sam – showed him that. Time to reveal whether he wanted to be in or out.

His attention was drawn away by sounds, sounds of people in the darkness that now surrounded them. Only he and Sam had light on them from somewhere above and she was standing in and out of the light.

"What do you want?" Sam's voice floated out to him. The low lighting showed her smile encouraging and provoking. She sauntered over to him, now in killer black leather climbing her so long legs and a biker-fashioned halter top that challenged containment. Hands on her hips, Sam came nose to nose or was when he looked down at her.

Jack matched the smile lurking in her demand. That's when the heavy rhythm and down-beat erupted. Stage lights radiated from behind him with smoky search beams that illuminated the stage edge and an audience teeming with yelling crowds. And in his hands…a guitar.

Automatically he was playing the classic rock song like a pro. Which he wasn't but Jack felt right with it. In tune, on beat, damn right! About then he noted his clothing was changed to black rocker jeans, a white tee ripped low down his chest, its sleeves stripped off, a rebel cap and sunglasses. He laughed at the glasses in this gloom since they gave him clear vision anyway. The spotlight was on Sam who was dancing enticingly in a circle of younger, brawnier suitors.

"Hey, not!" Jack growled. He plucked his guitar savagely with the music. Sam looked up and slowed her movements. Her suitors danced around her but her eyes stayed on him. Waiting.

_You need coolin', baby I'm not foolin'_

Amazing. _Am I?_ Her raised eyebrow seemed to suggest. Yeah, you are. He knew others noticed her and it always made him feel lucky that he had her attention by merely being her CO. Now she aimed that Sam grin at him. He stalked over, keeping his admiring gaze on her as the music pounded and the crowds grew louder.

_Gonna send you back to schoolin'_

It was a naughty song and Jack could see she knew it and the lyrics; her eyes sparkled with mirth and surprise. He moved closer; a few of the suitors were gone and Sam was still locked onto him. Moving with the music, matching his moves.

"Show and tell, Jack," she said. Her soft demand reached him over the hammering instruments. One of the dancers snatched her hand and twirled her before she eased free and faced Jack again, dancing with him from afar.

_Way down inside, honey you need it, Gonna give you my –  
_

The crowd was suddenly illuminated and what he saw almost froze him. A sea of stern faced generals in dress blues, shaking their fists angrily, shouts of "Regs! Regs! Regs!" to the song's chorus. Jack grimaced.

"I. Don't. Like. Your. Negative. _Attitudes_!" Jack roared. He pointed his guitar like a P90 and out sprayed tendrils of clover leaves. They enveloped the shocked detractors in their vines, completely obliterating them from sight. Jack turned back to Sam who winked her approval.

Two suitors crowded her now. He was just ready to blast them, too when Sam spread her arms and shoved them off the stage. She smiled as Jack stepped into her spotlight. Her zone, alone with her. He smiled back.

_You've been coolin', baby, I've been droolin'_

"Have you? What do you want to do, Jack?" Sam asked as she circled behind him. Her arms slipped under his jacket to hold his bare chest while he kept playing the driving music. He closed his eyes as her body pressed into his; he channeled the surge of longing into his hands on the strings.

Jack stared out at the chanting crowd. The generals were now sporting rainbow Mohawks, pierced ears and dress blue jackets with sleeves torn off to show thumbs' up tattoos on bare arms. A sea of raised fists bounced to the heavy beat. He felt Sam laughing into his back and joined her.

"You feeling it yet?" She whispered. She tightened her arms around him. And because his guitar now vanished, he held her arms there, free to enjoy the feel of her. "What do you want, Jack?" Sam asked softly as she moved away. He caught and held her hand. Another shift took place.

Gradually a star speckled velvet blackness of sky was above them with a full moon's magical light. Jack felt the previous hyper awareness settling like fine, precious dust inside him. He was floating again, feeling easy, almost replete. Jack chuckled. Something tickled his foot. He came alert; tickled his _bare_ foot.

Sam slouched gracefully in the canoe, watching him. In the soft linen pants and tank top, the moonlight painted her with its soft radiance, gave her eyes an odd gleam. He faced her from the other end of the cozy boat, its oars parked in place. They were drifting on the lake alone in the world, at peace.

Jack let the happy smile out; it was a long time coming and he couldn't deny it anyway. As dreams went, this one was perfect. His ideal: Sam on the lake, in the moonlight, with him. She smiled lazily as if she, too, was resting from their adventures.

She stroked his foot lightly as her foot flexed on his thigh. He began to massage it gently; her sigh of content rekindled the bittersweet longing in him.

"I didn't know I was so sharp," he said softly, his hands caressing her foot. Her secretive smile teased him. Would Sam be affectionate and so touchy-feely? For him?

"I'm only what _you_ know I am, Jack. Whimsy molded my body from itself and my DNA, but my nature from you," Sam whispered back. She leaned down to blow softly on his toes and smiled when he wiggled them. "Seems you know her quite well."

He looked down, embarrassed. This Sam knew he'd studied her; that meant the other, the real Sam did, too. Bother.

"You must continue."

OK, that was in his head. He glanced at Sam but she was unusually still, not even reacting to his foot massage now. Just laying there, her eyes shut, breathing very, very lightly. He held onto the warm appendage as if it was a lifeline. Maybe it was. It wasn't over, was it? The thought of leaving now kind of hurt.

"Um, continue what?" Jack asked. "'Cause if you mean this, sure."

"You will stay and continue. This will serve."

"No, wait, didn't say that! Can't stay, sorry," Jack replied hastily.

"Your Sam is here. I will provide. My destiny will begin now."

"Oh, 'my Sam,' is she? Well, sorry but that's not gonna happen. This is peachy but, well…" He sighed. He gazed at the woman he'd known for a decade. And wow, _his_ mind recreated her in amazing detail. Not from wishful thinking. The moonlight cast them in an bubble of magic, potent with possibilities.

Jack felt her foot flex and he automatically resumed the massage. She opened dreamy eyes and then she replaced one foot with the other. He shook his head while smiling and started on the new foot.

"You're afraid she'll accept you or that she won't?" She asked softly, suddenly.

"Either, both. I don't know," he answered glumly. Abruptly her foot changed. Jack was holding a wispy tail fin. "Whoa!" He jerked and looked back at her. Sam raised an eyebrow in chastisement, then her the foot was back. He chuckled. Quickly he raised her foot and planted a quick kiss on the sole; she hummed. "I never pressed her. I never would." Jack added sincerely.

"She's never doubted your respect," Sam smiled. "She could count on it, always." Little shamrocks poked out of her foot, twirled and melted back. Her expression of sincerity and sympathy was tinged with purpose. "_You're in the zone_," she reminded him softly.

Jack stared at the spot where the little green leaves disappeared into her skin. He tentatively touched there, feeling the same warmth as before.

In the zone. He mulled the term over. Her eyes were on him, willful, soft like Sam. Huh; she'd already let him in. Just enough to keep the lines open between them and yet maintain their working detachment. Sam winked at his dawning conclusion.

"Sam's open to something more. Between us." Jack murmured almost in wonder. Could he be sure? The foot in his hand struck him in the chest. "Hey!"

"D'oh! Don't make a fish out of her!"

"That was half a fish," Jack protested lamely. Yeah, their professional bond was just that: professional. In their team history, they had nothing to regret, nothing to hide. With a couple of exceptions but then, they weren't themselves, really. So. "Not so untouchable, then?" His hand slid up to caress her calf suggestively while he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Hmm, not _that_ touchable, either!" Sam warned, but wagged her brows, too. "Yet." She sat up and scooted closer. Jack was compelled to return the mischievous look. The canoe rocked a little at the movement. Her hands trailed over his arms, his chest and then up to his shoulders. Nice. "But we hang out well, right?"

He folded his hands around her hips and leaned forward until their noses touched.

"Oh, yeah," Jack murmured close to her lips. "But not like now, my dear," he said as stood up and lifted her with him. Although the boat rocked crazily at their sudden motion, they didn't capsize.

"Ooh: Jack, starting something," Sam cooed, her expression lit with expectation.

"Yeah, something," he replied mysteriously. He took her hand, warmed that she gave it so willingly. Then they stepped out of the boat.

"What I want," he said with a smile at her. The night sky, the magic moonlight all faded. They were back; Jack saw the golden flecked mountain range in the distance, across the expanse of green clover. Sam's hand was holding his as they walked. I want you, he wanted to say. And just like that, her eyes gave him his fondest wish. _Try me._

Oi! Their more-than-friends moments may have been like rare but they were cumulative in effect. Jack realized he'd stopped and was staring at her, their hands clasped. The air around them sparkled, charged with otherworldly static that enveloped them, secluded them, bringing them together as surely as magnets.

Sam's expressive wonderful eyes stared back at him with anticipation and a little hungrily, he thought as he folded her into his arms. He executed a full out kiss, unveiling the profound feelings he'd kept in check for her. Sam eagerly returned his ardor, her arms curling around his neck in wholehearted participation.

Jack gathered her closer, losing himself in the awesome return of his feelings from Sam. She met his passion and escalated to volcanic! He thought they'd torch Whimsy yet it was way too difficult to stop. Amid madly swirling clover and their heated exchange, Jack was sure at last.

They were finally compelled to breath. The super-charged air cooled, and Jack preened as Sam let go with a dazed smile and a purr of satisfaction. Of course he sported his own dazed look. In her filmy linens, she'd left her body's warm imprint on him. And hey, he wore a white athletic tee and Simpson shorts - with hearts! He _really_ wanted to get that story one day! Her hand ruffled his hair gently before she stepped back. He liked that she wanted to do that.

Jack felt the finality and instinctively tried to fight it. But her tender, regretful gaze told him this idyllic interval was ending. For a fraction of a moment he considered not leaving. That faded when his normal good sense reasserted itself. And then he saw Sam looking at...Sam? He turned and turned again.

There was a whoosh and a curtain of clover swirled up and blocked his Sam from view. Jack gawked at the figure now standing just beside him in the linen outfit with a smug look. He realized he'd just kissed…He'd just made out like a randy, just-back-from-the-range cowboy with…Just to prove her point, his current companion sprouted clover from her fingertips and stroked his jaw.

"Holy…I –" Jack sputtered but the intensity of that encounter made him aware of Sam as he'd never permitted before. He touched his lips where his 2IC had just ravaged. There was a tingling spot on his throat where she'd latched onto, just as he found a spot under her ear… Joy and doubt bloomed in him; did she know? "Real, but…" Jack looked at Whimsy Sam as she waited for him to recover. She winked.

"Could be a preview," she said mysteriously, kindly. Then she jumped straight up and clapped her hands. The rock song boomed again and he felt hope, like the beat, pumping through him. "What do you want, Jack?" she called.

"I wanna give you my love," he sang softly. Her laughter of victory and delight made him smile. He'd said it, he _would_ say it to Sam. "I wanna give you my love."

"Then give it!" Sam ordered as she spread her arms and executed a reverse swan dive before she flew out of sight. Flew. Shamrocks leaped about him somersaulting, bursting into rainbows and flowers and fireworks before they trailed after her like a crazy cape.

Jack let the laugh double him over until he almost fell on his knees. And it felt so good to do it; heck it made him happier than he'd felt in dog's years. He made his way across the undulating clover with a springy step. They sure seemed as happy as he was! He'd kissed his Sam. His Sam kissed him back; huh, more like returned fire!

"Sweet!"

Hope; he'd read his Sams right; she was interested in deepening their friendship. Now his mission was to put their 'thing' in motion and see where it lead.

Jack scanned the air, the mountain, the grass, smiling. The clover shivered around him and then he was surrounded by a dense steam cloud. "Hey, now! No more of …uh, oh," he protested at the enveloping fragrance. It wasn't the Cloud-9 steam but it sure smelled great. And familiar. Carter had this scent on her when she came back from Whimsy.

Oh, Sam; you held out on me. And I don't blame you. No report could tell _this _story; his certainly won't. Then he was at the rocks, now considerably less mountainous. His BDUs were there, pressed to pass inspection. Gotta love that.

He chuckled, yet his mind grappled with what this destiny thing was, why it involved him and apparently Sam. Whimsy had some idea it wouldn't or couldn't disclose. He wondered if his colonel had figured it out. Jack paused while dressing. And grinned: His colonel; oh yeah. The rock face split apart and began to slide silently into the clover. The gate came into view and so did Sam. His Sam.

She watched him approach. Behind her, the chevrons lit up and a smoky event horizon opened in the gate. Her cap didn't quite hide the hint of anxiety in her blue eyes but her perfect parade rest showed it. Drawing nearer, he noted how nice she smelled, and her steam pressed uniform. Her gaze swept him quickly as if to be sure he was unharmed.

"Great valet service here," Jack said in greeting. Her lips twitched but she was still in defensive mode. Probably in denial, too. "OK, Carter, what's next?"

"Whimsy will send us back to the planet. Apparently it has the pirates secured, and we'll just need to contact the SGC for back up, sir," Sam replied. He surprised her by stepping next to her, close enough for their elbows to touch. "Uh, bonus for us – the Alkesh."

"Cool. Let's go," Jack said. Apparently Whimsy shared some intel with her while he was occupied. He glanced down at her and smiled a little. She returned the expression slightly and blushed adorably. "What say we _talk_ after the debrief?"

If her eyes opened any wider they'd knock her hat off, he thought as he waited. Her eyes locked onto his throat where she'd had her lips; right above the tee shirt. Her lips moved a few times without sound. His heart raced at her silence. OK then; had she connected the spot, realize they'd kissed – _really_ kissed - each other senseless? She studied him a little apprehensively before looking away. But she was thinking.

"Sure, sir. A _talk_ after the debrief would be fine," Sam murmured. Her eyes met his again. Relieved, he couldn't help bumping her shoulder with his. Surprised at first, she bumped him back. "We should go." Her voice was a shade uncertain but she finessed it, like always.

Yes! Jack cheered inside. Before returning to duty, he reached over to adjust her collar, letting his finger stray to the little red mark under _that_ ear. Sam almost gasped. Her eyes sought _that_ spot on his throat and then looked up at him. He grinned and turned for the wormhole. Well, if she wasn't sure before, she was now!

And that happened. After the jubilant science team and the SGC welcomed them back. After the spoils in the form of the Alkesh and other tech-loot were recovered and exclaimed over. After Whimsy's near magical properties were exalted again. And after Daniel's sharp eyes scowled in envy that _Jack_ had the pristine look and scent that Sam had last year when he hadn't felt clean for days.

_Then_ it was after the debrief.

--

Jack prided himself on cutting the meeting short, and dousing the easily flaring scientific curiosity about their rescue by the planet. The mission report would explain enough. But Sam was nervous. So was he.

They sat opposite each other in the coffee shop booth in town. Not too private; they weren't sneaking around after all. But not overly traveled by the base personnel; they could reasonably talk here.

"I, uh, had time to think on the spa planet," Jack said after they had been served. Sam looked up. He gulped his coffee when her shrewd eyes met his. Steady, fella; remember it's all good.

"About what, sir?" Sam asked. Her hand curled around her cup of tea while she waited for his response. Her other hand tapped the table lightly, her eyes on him.

"About the 'sir' thing, _Samantha_," Jack retorted. She sat back at his tone. "I'd like to be able to call you that, you're my friend, for cryin' out loud. Can it hurt anything when we're off duty?" Sloppy, he moaned inwardly.

Sam watched him. Then she casually picked up her cup and brought it to her lips, all the while keeping eye contact with him. Jack suddenly realized she had that playful glint he'd seen at times and his heart righted itself.

"Sure, _Jack_," she said over the cup rim. The teasing tone in her voice put his fears aside. "Is that all you thought about on Whimsy?"

"Oh, I think you know that's not all," Jack replied. He made a point to angle his head to focus on her neck. One elegant eyebrow arched and there was that telltale blush even as she kept her cool. Yeah, testing, teasing; the Sam on Whimsy had always been with him.

"He tricked me, you know," Sam murmured down at her plate of fruit salad. Her face was endearingly pink as she spoke, then deepened. "He popped up and uh…I thought..."

"He was your 'me' in the boxer shorts, with hearts, you mean?" Jack replied calmly. Sam choked. "Yeah, I'm guessing some type of boy-toy, slave thing…" Jack paused. "What with you in, you know..."

"Sir!" Sam sputtered, mortified. She scowled at his chuckle. "It wasn't…that."

"I just want to know, someday, about the chocolate," Jack crooned. She looked down again hiding a guilty smile. That chocolate licking thing she did in the briefing room back then – he couldn't cool down for hours yet couldn't believe she'd done that on purpose. Oh, he believed it now. Sam leaned her elbows on the table and nibbled a piece of fruit. Uh-oh.

"Although the 'me' in those beach pants and tank..." Sam said slowly. Jack groaned. She'd seen her? "Yeah, I saw me. Funny thing; my top wasn't _that_ short." She kept watching him and Jack felt his ears glow hot. Oh crap. "Just curious about my CO seeing his 2IC as a Barbie doll..."

"Uh, no!" Jack protested. That blows; they each saw the other's 'other'! "At least your outfit exists, sought of."

"Oh, and you don't have a tank tee shirt, white?"

"No hearts on my boxers!"

"Just Homer Simpson?"

Jack and Sam stopped and burst into laughter at the absurd conversation. The waitress and the few patrons shook their heads and smiled knowing smiles. Sam and Jack settled down, feeling closer. The knowledge of their Whimsy 'others' was put on ice till time permitted.

Thing was, he knew she knew the deal with that Whimsy kiss. Poor good soldier-Sam was still working out whether she broke any rules then or now. He'd let her realize her ethics were still intact.

"That's it, then? We're done talking, _Jack_?" Sam asked. Definitely devilment in her voice. She bit her lip lightly as she looked at his. Well, she worked that in Carter-speed! He leaned toward her.

"Why, we've only just begun, _Samantha_," Jack cooed. He silently cheered at the awe on her face. Score! Except she wasn't going to take it for granted. Her eyes focused deliberately on his throat - _there_ - and her smile clearly said, '_bring it_.' Jack was confident there would be two winners this time.

Talk they did, but not about Whimsy's visions of themselves. Sam wanted to stay in touch with him when he moved to DC. Jack was glad because he wanted to keep in contact with the team, and her, as well. They drank coffee and tea, ate pastries (no cake) and talked easily for a couple of hours on their new jobs, the new threats, their new phone numbers and email addresses.

They separated and went home, both pleased at their first steps toward post-team friendship, and maybe more. Perhaps it took the actions on Whimsy for them to realize it wasn't so hard after all, they thought.

They'd only just begun to make their own destiny. At last.

**The End.**Yes, an epilogue is in the final works, hopefully posted after some necessary RL issues get done. Phooey.

Really hope everyone enjoyed the story. I'd like to know what you think, kindly review please. Thanks for reading, too.


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